Page 97 of Hash

“About the guy coming in?” I ask stupidly before realizing what I said.

“Yeah.” Hash’s gaze narrows. “What else happened yesterday?”

Shit.

“Well…” I trail off, internally kicking myself for walking right into this.

“Aisling,” Hash warns. “I’m trying very hard to be patient, baby doll, but I’m hanging on by a thread here. Cut me some slack and tell me everything that fucking happened.”

“It was probably nothing. Just a weird coincidence.” At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” Hash squeezes my thigh.

I sigh. He will not let up.

“All day long yesterday I felt off. And I know you’re going to ask me what I mean by that.” I pause as I shoot him a look. “But I can’t explain it. It was the weirdest thing. I felt unsettled and a little antsy. Frankie thought it might have been because I had a crazy weekend, and I thought she was right until…”

“Until what?” Hash presses.

“Until you left.” Hash’s nostrils flare as his hand flexes on my thigh. “Don’t lose it. It’s not your fault. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened, and I’ll worry about that.”

“Hash.”

“Aisling.”

“Lachlan.” I scold, pulling out his government name.

“Aisling, I’m not fucking around. Spit it out.”

“After you left, and I was getting ready for bed, I decided I wanted a Diet Coke. When I went to get one, Frigg was sitting on the dining room table just staring at the glass. It was weird because it was pitch black out, so I wasn’t sure what she was even seeing.”

“Could have been her reflection,” Hash says.

“Maybe, but once I finally worked up the balls to turn the lights on outside to see what she was looking at, there wasn’t anything there. That weird feeling I had been feeling all day increased, though. It almost felt like someone was out there watching me, but I couldn’t see them, if that makes sense.”

“It does. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Call you because I had a weird feeling? You would have thought I was fucking crazy.” I even thought I was going crazy for a second.

“I don’t care if you had gotten a paper cut. You fucking call me.” Hash’s voice whips out, making me shudder. “Understood?”

“Understood,” I whisper. I don’t feel like arguing about this with him right now. He’s never going to see my side, and I’m never going to see his.

Hash’s eyes continue to stare into my soul.

“Then what happened?”

“Then I went to bed and woke up to the sound of glass shattering. I freaked out, grabbed my phone and ran into Cormac’s room, and that’s when I called you.”

“What happened between the time I hung up the phone and I got there?” Hash asks, his voice sounding funny.

It’s only then that I realize that he looks like he’s about to explode. The tiny tendon in his neck is straining against his skin from how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

He thinks this is his fault.

As much as it hurts, I push through the pain radiating through my body as I sit up and wrap my arms around his middle, resting my good cheek against his chest.